


and that's what makes it love

by mothraesthetic (burritosong)



Series: yakulev week 2015 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dreams vs. Reality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burritosong/pseuds/mothraesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is nothing like the fairy tales that Lev used to dream of</p>
            </blockquote>





	and that's what makes it love

**Author's Note:**

> literally i was gonna name this after the line in “love is strange” from Galavant that’s “And it's nothing like the fairy tales / You grow up dreaming of” EXCEPT I ALREADY HAVE A FIC TITLED THAT and this fact ruined my life

When Lev was a little child fairy tales distressed him. It wasn't that he didn't like them, or that they scared him, or that they bored him. Rather, he became distressed because he could never figure out where he belonged in them.

He so badly wanted to be like the brave knights, galloping in their shiny armor astride their gallant steeds, saving the princess from whatever terrible evil was holding her captive. But he also wanted so badly to be swept off his feet, to ride off into the sunset with his arms around his rescuer's waist. Plus, princesses got the best dresses.

And so he was always terribly upset at the end of each fairy tale, because he could never decide who he wanted to be.

He told this to Dina one day. Dina was his youngest sister, younger than Natalia and Ivanya, but still older than him and definitely the coolest sister ever. Natalia was nice but she was boring, and Ivanya never wanted to share her dresses with him, but Dina always had exciting ideas and never got mad when she found him digging through her drawers.

"You can be both," Dina said, after a long moment of contemplation. "You can be the princess and the knight."

"How? I can't save myself."

Dina bopped his head. "Of course you can save yourself. And princesses can do the saving if they want."

"But how? Knights are the ones with the cool swords!"

"Lev," Dina said very seriously, "knights aren't the only ones with swords. Princesses can have swords too. And knights can wear dresses. And you can do whatever you want."

And to prove her point they spent the rest of the afternoon making Lev the coolest sword out if an old cardboard box—Dina even let him use her glitter pens to decorate it—with a matching cardboard crown that they covered with aluminum foil so it would sparkle. Once they were done, she let him put on her prettiest dress as he went off to vanquish whatever monsters he could find.

After that, Lev looked forward to the day when he would meet his handsome princess or beautiful knight. He imagined it would go something like this:

They would meet, and their eyes would lock, and then they would have a shared moment of _oh, it's you_ , and they would know that they had met the person they were meant to spend the rest of their lives with. There would probably be falling rose petals. And fireworks. And a swelling orchestra in the background.

Yes, that was definitely how Lev imagined it would happen.

What actually happens is this:

His prince is short. And foul-tempered. And instead of sweeping Lev off his feet he nails him with a kick in the back of his knee, sending Lev sprawling.

Yaku doesn't like roses. He's allergic to most flowers. He buys bouquets for Lev, but rolls his eyes as he hands them over. When they watch fireworks together, all Yaku wants to do is make out instead of staring soulfully into Lev's eyes.

Another thing Yaku doesn't like is cute couple things. He doesn't want to wear matching outfits, refuses to join in when Lev says, "No, I love you more," on the phone. He doesn't like pet names, unless he considers "you dumb ass" a pet name. He doesn't put a lot of stock into holidays, doesn't buy in to what he calls "pathetic capitalistic mass marketing traditions." He's against public displays of affection, so it's rare for them to even hold hands when they're on dates.

And any time Lev mentions anything even vaguely romantic, Yaku just has to argue with him about how useless and pointless all of it is.

Lev will start play fighting with Yaku, and before he knows it Yaku's pinning him down, twisting his arm until he taps out, seemingly missing out on the "play" part of it.

When Lev mentions his childhood dream, of pretty dresses and valiant steeds and cool swords, riding off into the sunset with his one true love, Yaku snorts. He never cared about any of those things when he was young, and he definitely doesn't believe in love at first sight or happily ever afters now.

Dina stares at him incredulously, whenever he recounts his recent interactions with Yaku to her. She doesn't understand why Lev bothers with him, what Lev sees in him. And Lev wishes he could tell her. He would if he could. But there are so many things about Yaku that Lev could never put into words. He makes a list of them, in his diary, trying to put his emotions into words, but it never comes out right. He never has the right words.

And there are so many things about Yaku he wishes he could share.

The glimmer in Yaku's eyes, when he realizes Lev is purposely baiting him, trying to get him to rough him up. Lev has is used to towering over everyone he knows, but with Yaku he feels delicate, and as small as Yaku is Lev has no doubt that he could and would protect him should anything threaten him. There's a strength in the hand he always holds out to help Lev up, deeper than anything physical, he knows he that if he ever needs help, Yaku will be his shield.

(He also enjoys the feeling of Yaku knocking the wind out of him, of putting him down on his knees, but he isn't sure what to make of that just yet.)

Yaku may scoff at all of Lev's romantic notions, but his derision loses its bite when he shows up to every date with a large bouquet of red roses and a box of chocolates. There's a White Day gift each year to match the Valentine's Day chocolates that Lev labors over in his kitchen. Yaku takes Lev to every fireworks show he wants to go to, even though he insists they're all the same.

He'll never agree to matching couple's outfits, but there's a single phone charm dangling on his key chain, and it's definitely the one Lev gave him. Yaku shies away from holding hands in public, but Lev will often catch him with his phone raised and pointed at him, having just or in the process of snapping a picture of him. Yaku casually hands his phone over to Lev so he can play games, tells him the passcode, and doesn't complain when Lev swipes through it. There's a feeling in his chest, when he discovers almost all of Yaku's photos are of him, that he'll never be able to find a name for. And his aversion to public affection makes those few kisses and hugs and brief tangling of fingers just that more important.

Yaku constantly puts down Lev's romantic notions, but he still does whatever he can to fulfill them, shrugging it off when Lev tries to make a big deal out of it.

Sometimes, he drags Lev off to supply closets and single stall restrooms at school, and he mutters into Lev's skin about how he couldn't stop thinking about him, how much he missed him even though they saw each other just hours earlier at practice, and Lev feels like his heart is going to explode.

Yaku walks Lev home everyday, even though his house is in the opposite direction. They walk side by side, bumping shoulders and brushing hands, and Yaku smiles up at Lev with an expression that Lev wishes he could bottle up and keep forever.

There are no valiant steeds, no shining armor, no dragons to be bested. There may be candles and rose petals in Lev's future, but with Yaku he never knows, and the anticipation and wondering is better than any guarantee. Lev's dreams may be perfect, but his reality—the one he shares with Yaku—is so much better than anything he could have imagined.


End file.
